Arlene Sachitano - The Quilt Before The Storm

She then related the events at the homeless camp.

“I’m glad I wasn’t there with Wendy,” Carla said, “even if that did mean we were here all day with the witch. Aiden went to the clinic, so he wasn’t here to rein her in. It was a nightmare, but nothing compared to finding a dead guy.”

“I’m going to try to come to the clinic and see Scooter tomorrow,” Harriet said. “Maybe I’ll have a chance to see him and find out what’s really going on.”

“Good luck with that,” Carla said. “Uh-oh, gotta go, she’s calling for me again.”

Lauren was standing in front of the fireplace when Harriet hung up.

“So?” she demanded.

“Let’s go back with the others-Aunt Beth and Mavis and Connie need to hear this. That was Carla,” Harriet said when they’d rejoined the others.

Mavis slid a cookie on a napkin in front of her.

“She had a bombshell to report. She said she was listening to Aiden and Michelle while they were eating breakfast this morning. He said he believed she was just trying to scam him into giving her more money, which their mom had explicitly said not to do, and unless she could produce evidence, he didn’t believe anything she said.

“Carla said she heard rustling noises and then what sounded like the turning of pages. At any rate, they were silent for a few minutes. Then Michelle said ‘Read right here,’ and then she heard Aiden suck in his breath. Then he said, ‘So, it’s true. Our mother was a murderer.’

“She thinks he stormed out at that point. She heard the door slam, and then Michelle mumbled something, but Carla couldn’t make it out.”

“Wow,” said Lauren. “That’s a bombshell, all right.”

Harriet picked up her cookie and took a bite. For once, her aunt didn’t make a comment. Beth and Mavis were looking at each other.

“Clearly, there’s a story here,” Lauren observed.

“I suppose we’re going to have to tell them,” Mavis said to Beth.

“Tell us what?” Harriet asked, looking first at one then the other.

“Many years ago…” Aunt Beth began.

“…While they still lived in France…” Mavis added.

“…Aiden’s mother was involved in a car accident,” Beth continued. “It was dark and raining…”

“…The visibility was nonexistent…” Mavis said.

“…And a girl ran out into the street. She was running away from her controlling boyfriend and darted out in front of Avanell without warning.”

“The police didn’t cite her or anything,” Mavis noted.

“The girl suffered a fatal head injury but was not taken off life support for a long, agonizing month.”

“Diós mio,” Connie said. “I never knew.”

“Avanell was trying to put it behind her. That’s why they moved to America-to try to get a fresh start. But she was haunted by it,” Aunt Beth said.

Mavis took up the story.

“It didn’t help that the family sued Avanell in the French equivalent to our civil court. They were in total denial that their daughter was in an abusive relationship. The suit was found to be without merit, but they appealed and dragged things out for years-long after Avanell came here. She kept having to go back and relive it.”

“That’s horrible,” Harriet said.

“She felt terrible, even though there was nothing she could have done,” Beth said. “There were witnesses who testified at her various proceedings that she couldn’t have done anything. I think they were really the only thing that got her through it. That and Aiden-she had him after they came here, and with a new baby, she couldn’t dwell on things too much.”

“It’s also why she was always giving money to charities that provide services to troubled girls,” Mavis added.

“That’s a sad story, but what does that have to do with Aiden?” Lauren asked.

“Come on,” Harriet said. “You can imagine what Michelle is doing with this. She’s probably telling him that with both his mother and his uncle being killers, he’s doomed. That’s why she’s suggesting he go back to Africa. She’s probably telling him he needs to go to keep us all safe from him.”

“And since he’s not going to be here, why does he need a house or money,” Mavis finished the scenario for her.

“She’s a real piece of work, that girl,” Jorge said. “Her parents took her to counselors, you know. It just didn’t seem to help.”

“Poor Aiden,” Harriet said. “I’ve got to go see him tomorrow.”

“You better wear your armor,” Jorge said. “The boy is stubborn. If he believes what la diabla said, he will be hard to reason with.”

“Carla said she seemed to be showing him something,” Harriet reminded them.

“I wonder what it was.” Lauren said.

“She said something about Michelle doing a craft project in the nursery the other day,” Harriet remembered. “I’ll bet she phonied up something. She worked in the nursery because she knew Aiden had given use of the room over to Carla, so he wasn’t likely to happen on her creating the fake.”

“What a witch,” Lauren said.

“Always has been difficult,” Mavis concurred.

“We better get back to our house,” Rod announced. “We need to turn the generator on again to run the freezer and the water heater. What are the plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m going to the clinic to see Scooter and to try to talk some sense into Aiden,” Harriet said. “Then I’d like to go to back to the homeless camp and look around. There has to be something we’re missing.”

“Jorge and I told Reverend Hafer we would come manage lunch at the shelter to give him and his wife a break,” Beth said.

“Many people are willing to work for their food, but unfortunately, most don’t have experience in a commercial-sized kitchen,” Jorge added.

“Let us know if we can do anything to help,” Connie said.

“There is one thing,” Lauren said. “We haven’t heard from Sarah. She’s at her boyfriend’s place on Miller Hill.”

“By herself?” Rod asked.

“We tried to talk her out of it,” Lauren explained, “but the jerk has her brainwashed.”

“Do you have an address?” Connie asked, pulling a small notepad from her purse. Lauren scratched the address on it.

“I searched this out on the internet, but I think it’s current.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Rod said.

The phone rang again while everyone was saying goodbye to Rod and Connie.

“Hello,” Harriet said.

“I know I said I’d call tomorrow,” Detective Morse told her, “but we have a plan of sorts in place, and I wanted to let you know and ask you a favor.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I’m coming in by Coast Guard helicopter tomorrow along with another detective and some emergency medical personnel. They’ll be landing us at the grade school. My apartment is on the downtown side of the bridge, so I won’t be able to get home or get a car. Could you give me a ride to the shelter at the church?”

“Of course, but why don’t you come stay at my house? We’re having a sort of ongoing pajama party. My aunt and Mavis and Lauren are here, along with Jorge.”

“It sounds like you have a full house already,” Morse said.

“We still have room. I’ve got several of those blow-up beds, and I have a whole attic that no one is staying in. It may not be the Ritz, but with a down sleeping bag and the airbed I think it will be as comfortable as any of us are without power. And we have a gas water heat and a gas stovetop.”

“How could I refuse an offer like that?” Morse asked. “Their target landing time is noon, but it could be plus or minus an hour. Come at your convenience-I won’t be going anywhere.”

“We’ll be there at eleven, just in case.”